


Thy Sheepe Shall Take No Harme

by ThreeWhiskeyLunch



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, cuppa, sleep deprived, sometimes a person just needs a quiet spot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5965000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/pseuds/ThreeWhiskeyLunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard has been working himself too hard. Thane has his six.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thy Sheepe Shall Take No Harme

**Author's Note:**

> Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepheard?  
> Thy sheepe be in the corne;  
> And for one blast of thy minikin mouth  
> Thy sheepe shall take no harme. ~Shakespeare/King Lear

The Commander often came in the evening, after missions had been debriefed, armor polished, weapons cleaned and put away in the armory. Thane knew he wasn’t the only one that he visited. He'd heard the others comment on the man's persistent questions, a seemingly never-ending font of curiosity and desire to understand cultures beyond his own species. It had amused Thane at first, unable to discern if it was a studied attempt on the human's part to try to force cohesion where none obviously existed before; or if it was a sincere desire to learn more, experience more beyond the extensive experiences he had already had.  
  
Thane decided, perhaps after Shepard's third visit, that he was sincere with his questions. And surprised to find he didn't mind the man meddling in his affairs to the point that he asked for a personal favor.  
  
Little did he realize the extent to which Commander Shepard would go to fulfill the promise of that favor.  
  
When next he came, he bore a gift in the form of a cup of tea. He asked after his son Kolyat, sitting across the table from Thane with his own mug of hot beverage and the discussion turned to family and Thane's regrets over Irikah, how he hadn't known what he had had until it was too late. Shepard listened carefully, but his eyes were heavy. His face seemed more hollow than even the previous week. The stresses of the mission they were on had begun to write themselves across the Commander's face. Thane had come to recognize the dark rings under his eyes as a sign of exhaustion. The man pushed himself too hard, going above and beyond what anyone could possibly ask.  
  
Thane had rare occasion to meet such an extraordinary individual such as Commander Shepard.  
  
That he had been accepted into what could only be described as the Shepard Family caused a small, but not insignificant feeling of pride that he could not quite pinpoint the nexus of. Had he allowed himself to ponder the idea, he might have said he felt as if he were part of an exclusive club, welcomed into a group he would have ordinarily steered far away from. Such an idea was an enigma to the assassin, used to working on his own for weeks or months at a stretch. And yet here he was, not only welcomed, but embraced by a motley crew of misfits and their meticulous and thoughtful champion.  
  
So lost in his own thoughts had he become that his attention was startled back to the room by a strange snort that came from Commander Shepard. At first he thought the man was laughing at him-he'd heard similar sounds come from him when he and Garrus had their heads together in the mess. But after the initial noise, he heard the deep breath as he exhaled. The man sat with his arms crossed and his head down, chin nearly to chest. The cup of liquid sat forgotten on the table in front of him, half empty and most likely gone cold. Thane watched the man for a minute in silence as his chest rose and fell evenly, heard that snorting noise again as he breathed in.  
  
He opened his mouth to say...something. He wasn't really certain what. But decided against it. Shepard clearly was asleep and waking the man to ask him _if_ he was asleep seemed more than rude. Instead he took a final swallow of his tea and set the cup gently down on the table.  
  
He could meditate just as well with the man sleeping-and snoring-in the chair across from him. It made no difference to the Drell. Perhaps an hour or two in the quiet of life support, with only the quiet hum of the engine to lull them would do them both good.  
  
Shepard for the sleep.  
  
And Thane for the company.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
